


Little Knife

by she_dies_at_the_end



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Cat story, Family, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-22 06:59:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17055314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/she_dies_at_the_end/pseuds/she_dies_at_the_end
Summary: When a couple of Whalers find a stray cat in the ruins of Dunwall, they go on a small adventure to find it a new home. Families are an important thing in a city invested with plague, after all.





	Little Knife

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Caisar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caisar/gifts).



> First time writing for Dishonored and I'm almost certain I got some of the finer details wrong somewhere. But this was meant to be a gift and I hope you can enjoy it all the same! Thanks for reading and happy holidays.

There were plenty of reasons not to keep a cat in Dunwall. Besides being one of the first things to go when the famine hit--cat meat was better than starving to death--it quickly became clear that they were just bags of fur and pestilence. They ate the plagued rats, after all. Those that didn’t immediately die off from disease quickly added to the body count by spreading the sickness. They were shunned by most. And killed by others who didn’t want to risk the Plague running rampant in their homes.

“So,” asked Benny. “Why did you bring one here?”

The Whaler hideout was something of a wet mess, being flooded since 1836. Only the brave or the desperate would even consider lurking in the ruins of the Chamber of Commerce. Or the cats, in the case of what Jack had wrapped in his arms.

The pure black ball of fur chirped quietly as one green eye peered up at Benny. The other eye was missing, making the creature look like a fuzzy cyclops. It otherwise seemed healthy, if a little starved.

“I found him digging through the refuse outside my quarters.”

“That doesn’t answer my question, Jack. Why would you bring that mangy floor rug into the compound?”

“I’ve never seen a cat before,” he replied, fiddling with the paws of the furry beast. “When I was growing up, most of them were eaten at that point. He’s a lucky little thing. And he’s healthy with no Plague.”

“You better let him go if you want him to stay that way.”

“I should. But...Just look at him!”

Benny discovered the cat did, in fact, have legs as Jack held him up. The creature let out another helpless meep as his feet dangled. Jack clasped onto him tightly. They were a ways up, lurking along the rooftops of the flooded district to have their private conversation. Hard as they were being assassins and killers, even a murderer couldn’t deny that the kitten was the warmest sight in a city filled with cold metal and filth. No one would dare harm such a helpless creature.

Ben blamed its charm for wooing Jack’s heart.

“You’re keeping him then?”

“...Well, therein lies the problem. I’ve never seen a cat before, so I had no idea I’d have an allergic reaction to them.”

Benny crossed his arms as Jack removed his whaler mask, a ghastly thing with lifeless glass eyes blacked out and mouth protected with an air filter. Jack wasn’t a much better sight in that regard. His blue eyes had a red tint to them, like he had been standing in front of smoke for hours. In addition, his cheeks were puffed up and distorted as if he had gotten into a fistfight with one of the other Whalers. If Benny didn’t know any better, he’d have said Jack had become afflicted with some sort of foul disease.

“If I keep him in my quarters, I might literally suffocate to death. It’s getting hard to breath in my room when he sleeps on top of me combined with my allergies.”

Benny didn’t need gifts from the Outsider to figure out why Jack called him out there to reveal all this to him and only him.

“No.”

“Come on, Ben! You have all that space in your room. Why can’t you just take care of him for me?”

“One, this is your problem. Not mine. Two, I hate cats. Three, you’ve been in my quarters, haven’t you? It’s a death trap.”

That much was true. There were very few areas in the watered down district that were genuinely safe and secure. Such was the life of assassins hiding from the public. Their home was a natural deterrent for any curious overseers or desparate vagrants. While sewage water flooded the streets and base of the buildings, the Whalers lived from up high like a murder of crows. Dangerous if one took a fall.

“Besides,” continued Benny. “Do you know what Daud would do if he found out about this thing? It’s hard enough to come by clean food as it is. If he doesn’t tell you to get rid of it so it doesn’t eat our supplies, he’s going to chop it up like a butcher and feed it to us.”

Daud, the Big Knife, had the closest thing he could call a room out of all the Whalers. It was fitting, with him being the boss. It also left him alone to muse to himself most of the time, far away enough from the dormitory with the rest of the assassins.

“Put that mask back on,” muttered Ben as he drew up his hood. “You’re hideous to look at. And I have an idea.”

~

Most of the other Whalers set up shop in the Chamber of Commerce building itself. The rich wood offices gave them the illusion that they were of an upper class, even though the walls themselves were crumbling apart from the months of disuse and weathering. One of the top floors was completely devoted to bunks and beds of all sorts, with a common room and a makeshift kitchen. Whalers could choose to sleep wherever someone else wasn’t. The rules were set in place to make sure no one stole anything from other nor fought. Breaking said rules usually resulted in a personal experience with Daud and his magic that was most unpleasant. Most of their gifts were the result of association with the Big Knife and the longer they spent near him, the stronger their abilities.

Those who abused those gifts or the kindness of the Whalers quickly found themselves outed. In one of the worst places in Dunwall to live, being trapped in a flooded building over poisoned water without powers was the worst kind of punishment. One that, thankfully, few of the Whalers had seen despite the colorful cast Daud attracted.

Most of them were former thieves or workers who lost their homes and families. Many of them had little to live for and gladly took to the blade as a means of expressing their frustrations of a society that had failed them. Even Ben had come to Daud when his sister was taken by a particularly zealous Overseer after the fanatic had slit their mother’s throat when she tried to stop it. Like the rest of them, Ben was tough as nails and a trained killer to be feared throughout the rest of the city. They were truly a den of the most violent and bloodthirsty men and women perhaps of the likes Dunwall had ever seen.

And, of course, all that posture was dropped the moment Jack revealed the one-eyed cat and the entire dorm collectively “aw”ed.

Ben could only sit in the corner as the other Whalers crowded around the black ball like a group of children around an ice cream vendor. One minute of the performance was about all he could stand.

“Alright,” he bellowed over the horde. “Yes, we get it. There is a cat. Can we all just give it some space for a moment?”

The call fell on deaf ears. Even through his mask, Benny could see the panicked expression on Jack’s face as the crowd began to literally drown him and his precious cargo in hand.

Suddenly, the room of their brothers and sisters became the most imposing obstacle he could think of. Of course the other Whalers would be overzealous in literally everything they did, including welcoming in a new member. Throw in a cute animal to the mix and that created a recipe for suffocation if only to get a proper look at a creature that had little right to exist in the conditions of the city.

Ben might have jumped into action to save his friend from being smothered if there wasn’t a confused call coming from the center of the crowd. The other Whalers dispersed around the area Jack had been standing to find it empty. Gone without a trace. A Blink.

The other Whalers hadn’t put it together as quickly as Ben had.

He went for the window, climbing his way up for the roof as he had done a hundred times. Daud trained them all well in how to navigate the hidden mazes of the city until it became second nature. Gifts from the Outsider weren’t to be taken lightly though, and Jack was too much of a novice to consider escaping in such a manner. And there were only two people skilled enough among the assassins who could handle a Blink like that in a crowded room with no one noticing them. And Daud was handling business with a new client.

“Billie,” muttered Ben as he hoisted himself onto the rooftop. “Were you going to let him get trampled before you jumped in?”

“I wanted to see if our newest recruit could handle himself first. You don’t learn anything by getting rescued all the time.”

Billie seldom wore her mask around the hideout. That allowed Ben to notice the disappointed frown stretched across her face as she dropped Jack on the tin roof of the building. The passing rain made everything slippery and smell like copper, and Jack fumbled to try to get to his feet. Not helped by the squirming ball of fur still in his arms.

“You should have known better,” Billie scolded. “Don’t you remember the last time Mercer brought in that sick dog?”

The poor man cried himself to sleep when it finally passed away. Every one of the Whalers did they best to comfort him and make it easier. Rose took up knitting again to give him a blanket and Adam even stole some cookies from a noble’s party to cheer him up. Even then, everyone had taken turns making sure to keep an eye on him every day.

“We didn’t have any better ideas,” Jack came to Ben’s defense while calming the kitten. “I didn’t think they would swarm like that.”

“Like rats to cheese. Or cats to the rat, apparently. Regardless, you need more awareness of your surroundings. You should look at this as a lesson on escape and proper planning.”

As Daud’s second in command, Billie had a habit of lecturing the rest of the Whalers. Especially when they were still training and learning while she was the second best of the bunch. Of course, that led her to view everything as training. Even trying to find a cat for a new home.

“I was hoping one of them would interested in caring for him,” Jack tried again. “Or, perhaps a communal effort. They seem invested enough…”

“They would spoil the creature until it could no longer survive in a city like this,” muttered Billie. “And I’m assuming you two would be unable to provide for the beast?”

They both shook their heads.

Billie didn’t sigh at such a response though. She just approached the kitten and grabbed it by the back of his neck, hoisting him into the air like the cat’s mother. The helpless creature mewed slightly in her face as it dangled freely.

Only Jack would be so foolish as to come up with his worst idea yet.

“Would you want to take him?”

“Off your hands?” Billie asked.

It was impossible to tell her emotions half the time she spoke, if she was pleased or merely humoring the other Whalers with feigned attention. Not that she ever bragged, but she expected the best from all them. Especially herself and Daud.

“Yes,” Billie said after a quiet moment sizing the kitten up. “I would quite like to raise a little war cat.”

“War cat?”

“Well, of course. I’ll have him trained up to serve me in the field. I expect it to be quite tough, considering he doesn’t look so healthy. Plenty of skipped meals to keep him lean and able to fit into tight places. Perhaps he might even take to the Possession skill rather well with practice.”

“Absolutely not!”

Jack pulled away the cat from Billie’s grasp, leaving her smirking. She just shrugged, not even putting up a front that she was offended.

“If you leave him with me, that’s what I’m going to do with him. And if you give it to anyone below, they’ll do the exact opposite. So, what will you do?”

Damned if you do, damned if you don’t. All eyes turned to Jack as the kitten continued to squirm in his grasp, demanding to be put down.

“Isn’t there someone here who can look after him and not treat him like an insane person?”

“New boy, have you seen our ragtag bunch? You’ll find more sanity in an asylum. Have you tried everyone among the Whalers?”

“You just saw everyone’s reaction downstairs,” spoke Ben. “Who else even is there?”

“Well, did you ask Daud?”

The question caused Benny to spit out a chuckle and mutter.

“You’re having a laugh. There’s no way the Big Knife will be interested in babysitting a kitten.”

“Do you know Daud or are you just making guesses?” asked Billie, expression sharp as her daggers. “I’ll assume that you did not take the time to ask him then.”

“He’s the boss,” Ben argued. “He doesn’t have time for such distractions, even if he was interested.”

“Why not?”

“Because...He’s Daud. The Big Knife. He’s the toughest bastard among us. There’s absolutely no way he has enough time to deal with this foolish endeavor.”

Daud was the sort of man that would eat bars of iron for breakfast and spit out nails. Or, that was the way the others all spoke of him. The only times Ben had seen him was on missions on the occasional dinner with the rest of the Whalers. And that was over the span of a couple of years. Daud had to be hard and distant for a guild of assassins.

“He can appear that way,” Billie said. “Just like how the most dangerous group of assassins in Dunwall can fall apart the moment someone introduces a cute cat. If people knew that, we would be out of business.”

“I don’t believe it,” grunted Ben. “He’s different from the others.”

“And what does the new boy believe?”

Again, all eyes fell to Jack. He had clamped the kitten by the back of the neck to keep it from clawing at him. There were tiny cuts on his finger as the cat kicked in the air fruitlessly, desperately trying to find ground.

“At this point,” said Jack. “So long as he doesn’t kill the poor thing, I’ll take what I can get.”

“Come along then. This will be a good experience for the both of you.”

~

Daud’s hideaway was in an old mailroom with half the walls torn away, like it had been hit by some sort of bombardment. The entire space was like an arena of sorts, with stairs leading to nowhere to high rises that overlooked the surrounding area.

The trio of assassins Blinked from spot to spot with their unusual mission. Phasing in and out of existence until they were close enough to jump through Daud’s window. He had a guest, and not a Whaler by the posh tone he used.

“...And if you do well with this job, there will be many more for you to come. This might be the start of a wonderful relationship, Mister…?”

“Daud,” spoke the master assassin. “Just Daud.”

“Very well, Daud. I expect to hear some fantastic results given your group’s reputation. And if you say a word to anyone about what was discussed here...”

“There’s no reason for threats, Spy Master. We’ll get the job done quietly and without witnesses.”

“Very good. I await the news then.”

They waited for the sounds of a door opening and footsteps leaving Daud alone in his room. Ben heard the Big Knife grunt and guzzle something that wasn’t water before Billie took the opportunity to leap from their spot.

“A new, pompous patron?”

Daud’s voice was as rough as gravel though he spoke with a pleasing familiarity as he addressed his second in command.

“A big fish. Too big to ignore without him causing problems for us. But stick with him and we’ll reap some fine benefits.”

“Moving up in the world. I like it.”

“If I cared about riches, I might have turned this group into a bunch of thieves,” Daud grumbled. “What are you doing here, Billie? And why have you brought those two with you?”

Though Jack and Ben hadn’t revealed themselves, it was no surprise that Daud would detect them hiding just out of sight from the Big Knife’s office. The two of them shared a mute look of surprise before dropping in with the cat in tow.

Daud had a face that reminded Ben of a stone wall scarred from sword strikes. Every crack was deep as a well and told a story. His eyes were black in the shadows, though by the slimmest whites Ben could tell the Big Knife was looking Jack’s way. Towards the squirming ball he was wrestling with.

Ben wondered for a moment if the Outsider had cursed Daud with the gift of reading minds as the Big Knife closed his eyes and accepted the sight before.

“None of the others will take it?” he asked Jack.

Jack was surprised by the sudden question and bowed his head to the master assassin.

“It’s not that they won’t take him, sir. It’s just that no one has been a good fit to care for him. And we were...Well...I mean, I was wondering, uh, if you knew a home he could go to?”

The long silence was suffocating, even with the whaler masks on. Enough that Jack stammered again with an excuse.

“I’m so sorry, sir. I know this is a complete waste of your time and--”

“What’s his name?”

Ben and Jack shared an awkward glance to each other before one of them dared to answer.

“He doesn’t have one, sir,” spoke Ben. “He was found only just the other day. And it’s too dangerous to put him back with the flooding getting worse.”

“Leave him here then return to your posts,” Daud gestured to the empty chair where his guest had been sitting. Still warm. Then he returned to Billie. “Gather up the Whalers and have them meet me in the projection room. We have a job to plan.”

The cat was content to finally leave Jack’s grasp and curl up in a ball at Daud’s seat. The Big Knife gave it one pat before he turned to face the two younger assassins.

“Daylight’s burning, boys. Let’s complete the task at hand before discussing this one. He can stay here until a better home is found.”

~

There never was a better home with the cat quickly laying claim to Daud’s office.

Little Knife, the other Whalers had taken to calling him. Daud never bothered to give his furry companion a name. Though he never complained of the cat’s presence in his room either. Nor would Little Knife ever consider wandering far. He was a pleasant distraction in the hideout and bringing him an offering of fishy treats was considered good luck. The Big Knife never seemed to mind.

When the Whalers finally did disband, none knew what became of that cat.

Some claimed that he still remained in the old Commerce building hunting rats. Other, more morbid, ex-Whalers claimed that he died when Corvo made his way through the hideout. Ben liked to have the faith that Daud took his cat with him. And Little Knife was certainly his cat. There never was a better home, after all. And even with those days long gone, there wasn’t a day that went by where Ben thought about his old family in the worst days of Dunwall’s modern history.

Plague faded, floods passed and the sun returned over the skies of Dunwall.

So too did the cats as if they had been waiting for that moment of peace. No one paid much mind that they all seemed to congregate around the old Chamber of Commerce building. No one seemed to notice that the cats had seen to culling the local rat population left over from the disease, helping rid the city of its final vestiges. No one cared where the new furry additions set up their home. But there was always a home to be found in the abandoned buildings in the quiet distracts. With families of black cats lurking in the ceilings and walls.

So it went.


End file.
